


Unfair Charges

by MnIuDsNbIuGfHgTr_CxOiLkOiUyReSa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Actor Sherlock Holmes, Bi John Watson, Gay Sherlock Holmes, M/M, Prison, Prison Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-06-28 19:17:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19818814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MnIuDsNbIuGfHgTr_CxOiLkOiUyReSa/pseuds/MnIuDsNbIuGfHgTr_CxOiLkOiUyReSa
Summary: John Watson twenty-eight, had been a resident of block 23 for the past two years, three months, one week, and 5 days. His crime...? MurderSherlock age seventeen has just been tried and convicted as an adult for murder.They both had reasons for their crimes.Neither should be in prison for their actions.





	1. Cellmate

**Author's Note:**

> New fic idea popped in my head and I thought I'd might as well share it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly comments, questions, or suggestions are more than welcome!

John Watson twenty-eight had been a resident of block 23 for the past two years, three months, one week, and 5 days.

His crime? 

Murder of a senior officer. 

His plea?

Guilty. 

The truth? 

Self-defense. 

And everyone who knew an iota of John Hamish Watson wouldn’t doubt that he had a damn good reason for shooting Major Moran. Unfortunately, the blond seemed to feel something different about his actions. 

“Because I bloody well shot him, Harry! I’m not going to hide something I clearly did!” 

The petite blond woman across the table from him barely flinched at the outburst of shouting.

“Are you saying you wish you hadn’t?” She pressed unfazed by the glaring of her brother. 

“Hell No!” The ex-soldier chuckled. 

“I’d shoot him again if I got the chance. Hell, I’d shoot him a hundred times!” 

“In self-defense?” 

“Yes in self-defense! And in defense of every other man and woman, he thought he could put his hands on.” 

“Then why’d you plead guilty Johnny?”

“Because I shot him, Harriet, they didn’t ask me WHY I shot him they asked IF I shot him.” 

John sighed deeply he was tired of this, tired of the monthly visits for his sister that went exactly the same each time. 

It was so predictable it might as well have a script. Next, she would ask. 

“You get in any fights?” and as always he would answer…

“Maybe one of two. How are you and Clara?” 

And without fail the woman would lie and say. 

“Pretty good, I’m working on quitting the bottle.” 

He would grunt. 

John stared at his sister’s bloodshot eyes and downturned lips remembering a time when her eyes were bright and her mouth a permanent curved smile. 

The guards would step forwards to unchain his hands from the table.

“Stay safe Johnny” 

and then he would be lead to his empty cell and would stare angrily at the wall until meal call stewing over his sister’s visit. 

Except for this time his cell wasn’t empty. 

His first thought was that there must be a mistake. The man laying on the bed opposite of his wasn’t even a man. 

He was still a boy. He could pass for as young as 16 but considering his placement in the room had to be at least 18. 

A halo of ebony curls fanned around an angelic pale face completely with delicate brows, straight nose, long black lashes, and plush pink lips parted slightly in a heart shape.  
The boy was bloody gorgeous. 

And unless he knew how to hold his own he’d most likely be raped with the next week. 

John pressed his lips together tightly at the thought.

Distasteful but not uncommon. 

A gentle hush of breath escaped those heart-shaped lips and a surprisingly deep voice filled the room bouncing off the cinderblock walls.

“Are you done staring?” John jumped back slightly. 

“Er em, yes” 

“Okay,” the boy had yet to open his eyes and did so lazily his green silver eyes half-lidded. 

“Are you alright?” John stepped forward in concern. 

The boy was suddenly awake flinching back from the blond and rising to a sitting position. 

“I’m perfectly fine thank you, Just in need of sleep.” 

“I’d say you look right knackered.” 

“Brilliant observation …?” 

“John- John Watson.” 

“W. Sherlock S. Holmes” 

The youth settled against the wall eyeing the blond’s bulging muscles and mentally comparing the split knuckles with the kind face. John threw himself on his own bunk twisting to lay on his side so he could face the boy in an attempt to appear less threatening. Sherlock visibly relaxed. 

“How old are you?”  
“Twenty-five” Sherlock lied. 

John barked a laugh that made the other prisoner jump. “Sorry try again” 

Pouting the boy murmured. “Seventeen”

“Seventeen! Bloody hell how are you even in here?” 

“I’ll be eighteen in three months they didn’t want to bother with the hassle of transferring me.”

“Sherlock they can’t just stick you in prison with a bunch of raspiest and murderers. You’re still a minor you should be in school”

The raven-haired youth rolled his eyes to the heavens and sighed. 

“Obviously they can. And it appears they don’t care about uni at this point.”

John just stared at his cellmate. 

“Anyways I suppose I am one of the ‘Murderers’ you are referring to. I’ll fit right in”

The words took a moment to sink in. 

'One of the ‘murderers’ you are referring to' this slight boy with big eyes pink lips and the face of an angel had killed a man. 

It shouldn’t have been so surprising honestly he WAS in prison. But somehow John had been picturing something more deserving of an asbo being blown out of proportion by strict parents or even housebreaking.

Murder? No had not even been on his radar. 

Not only shocking but how did he manage it? The boy was as thin as a rail and looked to be about John’s height. 

Not much he could do physically to kill someone unless it was a woman… or a child. His blood ran cold and he found himself scooting farther back in his bunk. 

“It was my father. And don’t worry I don’t plan on killing anyone else.”

Somehow those words did clam the ex-solider. He after al. had killed many men in combat and one in self-defense. 

He was technically in the cell for murder as well. 

“Oh” John flopped onto his stomach and looked sideways at the boy. “Why?” 

Blue-green eyes hesitated and pink lips made an abortive movement without sound. 

Finally, the boy shrugged his eyes closing off coldly his voice taking on a lifeless quality. 

“I was bored.”


	2. Alister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter is here! Sorry for the wait.
> 
> Freindly comments, questions or suggestions are welcome! 
> 
> I really do try and add what people want, give me suggestions!

John shoveled down the mushy cardboard and water tasting food like a man possessed.

His cellmate Sherlock sat across from his eyebrows raised. The boy had not gotten a tray simply water and now sat watching John with something akin to amusement and disgust. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” 

Sherlock blinked looking up from John’s tray. 

“Hmmm, no. Food only slows me down.” 

“Well, yeah if you eat too much of it but trust me they don’t give you enough for that to be a problem.” 

“You misunderstand, the process of digestion slows my mental prowess. My transport reverts energy to the digestion system rather than the mind leaving me impaired.” 

John burst out laughing slapping the table once and giggling hysterically. Sherlock rose his eyebrow again and then stuck out his lip in a pout. 

“Stop laughing, what are you laughing at. John, John, JOHN!” 

The older blond gasped. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. That’s not how the human body works. I’m a doctor I should know. Your transport are you kidding me?” 

Sherlock continued to pout as John’s laughed died down into a snicker. 

A heavy hand dropped on the boy’s shoulder causing his head to jerk up and whirl around. 

A huge man well over six feet and face covered in tattoos stared down at the boy, fingers digging painfully into the boy’s shoulder. Sherlock to his credit did not flinch. John’s laughed had died his face turning blank. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the man and glanced at the hand on his shoulder. 

“Unhand me.” The command would have been quite striking if his voice had not chosen that moment to crack halfway through the first word. 

The tattooed man smirked. 

“Look at this we got a pretty one and he’s still a baby. Can’t even speak proper” 

Sherlock glared at the man. 

“Have you ever read a book?” 

The man’s brow furrowed. “Yes?” 

“Oh, pity. I thought there was perhaps an excuse for your poor grammar.” 

The hand tightened its grip and this time Sherlock didn’t manage to hold back a small yip of pain. 

“Guessing you’ll need to be teached some manners pretty boy. I’ll see you around.” The man’s other hand came up to brush against Sherlock’s cheekbone in a parody of a loving caress. 

“You are an idiot.” Sherlock turned back to face John. 

“Oh?” 

“A complete and utter idiot. Or insane.” 

“And why is that?” The teenager drawled disinterestedly. 

“That’s Alister, he basically runs the prison and you caught his eye. And as if it wasn’t enough that he decided he wanted to fuck you you had to go and piss him off.” 

“He wants to have sex with me?” The dark-haired boy looked utterly confused. 

“Why would he want that?” 

John groaned and thumped his head against his palm. 

“Just come and shower with me tonight. Alister showers in the morning I’ll try and keep the others at bay. I’m no Alister but most people listen to me.” 

“Fine.” The boy rubbed his shoulders grimacing 

“Was” 

“I’m sorry?” The blond looked up from his tray. 

“You were a doctor.” The boy explained examining his cuticles. 

“You said ‘I’m a doctor’ which is false, you are presumably in here for murder which revokes your license. You are no longer a doctor. Therefore the correct word is ‘was’ ” 

“You are a complete wanker” 

The boy continued to stare at his nails and John sighed, grumbling under his breath about death wishes. 

Sherlock was thin, very thin, but not as unhealthily as John had expected. In fact, he was rather well developed, his entire body a smooth line of pale muscles. 

He wasn’t bulky just pleasantly defined. 

“Swimming?” John guessed as the boy wrapped himself up in a towel getting ready to follow John to the shower. 

“Ballet” the boy corrected with a challenging look on his face as if daring John to laugh. 

The blond simply shrugged stepping out of his orange jumpsuit.

“I did rugby myself,” 

“You were military.” John looked up sharply to catch the boy staring unabashedly as John’s abs. Sherlock flushed and looked away. 

“Yeah a Captain, RAMC. How’d you know?”

“Posture, you stand at parade rest and sit with your back straight. When we sat you chose a seat in which you could see the entire room. Also the RAMC tattoo on your bicep.” 

John barked out a laugh and grinned. 

“Amazing, not many people would notice stuff like that. Besides the tattoo, that is” 

A pink blush dusted over the boy’s cheekbones and John grinned. 

“You really think so?” 

“Of course that was quite extraordinary.” 

“That’s not what people normally say.” 

“What do people usually say?” 

“Piss off” 

The blond clapped an arm around the beautiful boy and laughed. 

After a moment Sherlock joined in the two making their way to the showers. 


	3. Washing up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter eveyone! 
> 
> Friendly, comments, questions or suggestions are welcome below!

“This is freezing!” Sherlock complained teeth chattering under the shower head’s steady stream. 

“If you want hot water you’ve gotta shower in the morning. Which unless you want to be gang-raped by Alister and his cronies you’re not going to do.” 

“I’m not entirely sure I am free from that danger here” The dark-haired boy murmured back to John, pressing himself against the older man’s arm. 

The blond paused soaping his chest to look up. Three or four men were already staring, one lazily pulling on his cock, eyes fixed on the teenager. 

Disgusting.

A tall man with dark skin and a crooked smile was the boldest, he reached forward seizing Sherlock’s arm and pulling the boy flush against him. 

“Get off of me!” Sherlock wriggled fruitlessly, panic beginning to flit in his eyes. 

The man only grinned a little wider and bit at the boy’s pale neck hand squeezing at the plush arse.

“Let go of him, Ronald,” 

The man raised his head from the boy’s neck.

“Aw Watson you gotta be playing-“ he whined. 

“Now.” 

The man shoved Sherlock back towards John causing the boy to lose his balance and fall at John’s feet. 

“Fine, here’s your boy-toy back” 

Kneeling up Sherlock found himself face to … head with John’s penis. A few men whistled or catcalled. 

John yanked him to his feet.

“You were serious” Sherlock whispered his voice shaking. 

“That people were gonna try and fuck you? Or course I was. I’ve been here for over two years. I know how these people think.” 

“Th-thank you” the boy managed the words sounding strange in his mouth. 

‘Well that was agonizing to watch, now tilt your head back.” 

“Why?” Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

“I’m going to wash your hair.” 

“Again, why?” 

John sighed. 

“So you can keep your eyes open and watch your arse.” 

“Without a mirror, I find the concept of watching my own arse to be rather difficult.” 

John smiled softly.

“Shut up prat” 

“John, John, Jaaawn” 

John threw his blanket off his head and sat upright. 

“WHAT! WHAT IS IT SHERLOCK!” 

John could picture the raised eyebrow through the darkness and it only served to annoy the older man. 

“I wanted to say thank you” 

“You already did you, Berk!” 

A hand rested on John’s leg causing him to jump.

“Shit sherlock you can’t do that!” The blond whispered furiously you about made me piss myself.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Really?” The boy’s voice was a mixture of curiosity and disgust.

“No not really it’s an expression. The point was you scared me.” 

“Oh…” 

“What are you doing.” 

The shadow kneeling by John’s bed shifted the form becoming more distinct as John’s eyes adjusted. 

“I wanted to thank you” 

“Sherlock would you quit you already-oh” 

“Yes “ 

John flopped back on his mattress cock stirring at the thought of a real warm mouth instead of his own dry hand.

“Why?” He croaked.

“Seeing as you saved me from having my virginity forcibly taken in a washroom full of strangers it seems rather as if you have earned something of similar nature.” 

“Similar nature?” 

“I can suck you, my boyfriend says I’m quite good at it.” 

The temptation in John had been feeling was put on hold as he processed those words. 

“Your boyfriend?” 

“Well obviously, I’d hardly be offering to suck your cock if I were not gay or at the very least bisexual.” 

“That’s not what I was asking, although you are wrong four out of five men in this place claim to be straight and more than half of them would offer if it meant gaining protection in the future.” 

Sherlock huffed sitting back on his heels. 

“Then what were you asking? Is it important or can I proceed to suck-“

“Sherlock if you have a boyfriend you shouldn’t be offering yourself to other men.”

John kept his voice steady. 

“Besides you are a minor I’m 28” 

“And what are they going to do put you in jail?” The boy deadpanned.


End file.
